


Red Sky at Morning

by Dark_Sinestra



Series: DS9: Sub-Prime [5]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Abduction, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Intrigue, Kissing, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Mystery, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 10:19:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16303295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Sinestra/pseuds/Dark_Sinestra
Summary: In the wake of the new treaty between Cardassia and Bajor, Bajor mourns the loss of one of its own. Complications arise, as not everyone is happy with the tenuous peace and will stop at nothing to bring it to an end. Will Major Kira, Odo, Doctor Bashir, and Garak be able to prevent catastrophe, or have events been set into motion that are too large to be contained?





	Red Sky at Morning

**Part I**

Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning. --Old Earth Proverb  
   
_Julian  
Garak's Quarters_  
   
As Julian rolled over, his hand flopped onto a hard, ridged plane. Emerging from sleep like a swimmer breaking the surface of a warm lake, he smiled to himself. It hadn't been a dream. He was in bed with his Elim, and after their brief conversation before he fell asleep, he was pretty sure this wasn't a one time fluke. He pressed his palm flat over the slowly rising and falling chest of his sleeping companion. Despite being sore in pretty much every part of his body, he didn't believe he had felt better in a very long time. Then he recalled the reason he came to Garak in the first place and felt an intense stab of guilt. How could he lie there, acting like the cat that ate the canary, when Vedek Bareil was dead, and Nerys was hurting? He rubbed his cheek lightly against the man's shoulder, pressed a soft kiss, and rolled to get up.  
   
Garak's fingers coiled loosely about his bruised wrist before he could stand. “Did you really think I wouldn't awaken?” he asked.  
   
“It took you longer than it usually does,” he said with a shrug and a slight smile. “I thought perhaps you needed your rest.”  
   
“They'll want you on Bajor soon,” the Cardassian said, tugging a bit harder. “But I don't think they'll begrudge you a few minutes.”  
   
He allowed himself to be pulled back into the bed, stretching lengthwise next to his lover. The slow, sensual kisses, such a contrast from the night before, made him wish that he had all day to stay. If they did nothing more than that, he'd be satisfied. The tailor's fingers kneaded broad circles in his back muscles, somehow avoiding the sore bite that he reminded himself to treat later, just in case. Cardassian bites weren't nearly as prone to going septic as human ones. Even so, he was never one to push his luck with such things. “Why are you being so nice to me?” he asked, the change in attitude so profound it made him suspicious.  
   
“Because I was anything but nice last night,” Garak admitted.  
   
The doctor shook his head and laid his index finger against the man's firm lips. “Not another word about that, now or ever. I don't care if you were angry or vindictive. I loved everything you did to me, and I wouldn't change it for anything.” He looked him in the eyes until he saw concession. One advantage of Garak's uncanny ability to read him was that it was ridiculously easy to convince him that he was telling the truth when he actually was. A sudden thought struck him. “You should come to Bajor with me.”  
   
“And slap every single Bajoran in the face with my presence? I think not,” Garak said.  
   
“This is different,” the doctor insisted. “Vedek Bareil gave his life for a treaty of peace between your people and the Bajorans. To hear Kai Winn talk, you'd think he was barely an accessory to the fact when he  _was_  that treaty. Legate Turrel was leaving early this morning to return to Cardassia. You're the only representative of your people here, quite possibly the only one who knows the truth of how this treaty came to pass. Your presence there would send a strong message reinforcing what that man gave his life to do.”  
   
Garak's look grew thoughtful. “Talk to Major Kira,” he said at last. “Find out how she feels about this. I have no desire to cause her further pain.”  
   
Julian couldn't help his surprised reaction. “I thought you couldn't stand her.”  
   
“There is still a good deal about me that you don't know or understand,” he said simply. “Ask her, and Julian, if she says no, don't push her. I know how persistent you can be,” he said a bit dryly.  
   
After a quick breakfast and a stop in the infirmary to self-treat the bite wound, Julian discovered that Major Kira was in the station's Bajoran temple along with every other Bajoran on the station who could clear their schedule. He didn't know what they were doing, although he didn't believe that it was the actual funeral. He was almost certain that would be held on Bajor itself. He heard repetitive chanting and realized it must be the death chant. Feeling like an intruder, he slipped away to the infirmary but kept an eye on the Promenade for a sudden flux of Bajorans. Eventually, he saw what he was watching for.  
   
He stepped into the crowd and walked against the flow, gently touching shoulders as he eased by. Eventually, he spotted her and made his way to her side. He struggled with what to say, for although as a doctor he had lost many patients in his time, dealing with grieving loved ones was never routine or simple. She took the choice out of his hands, offering him a tremulous smile and saying, “Doctor, I know he would have wanted me to thank you for respecting his wishes, and for...” her voice wavered, but she got it under control quickly, “doing the right thing by him in the end. And I want to thank you for standing up for him and being his advocate when I...when I couldn't.”  
   
“Nerys,” he said gently, “he never had a stronger advocate than you.”  
   
She quickly lifted a hand to swipe at her eyes. “Thank you, Julian,” she said, her voice trembling more. She took several deep breaths, sounding more in control afterward. “Funeral arrangements are being made as we speak. I would appreciate very much if you'd come down to Bajor with me and sit with me. Word has already spread of the efforts you made to save his life. It would mean a lot to my people, and to me.”  
   
“Of course,” he said, “I'd be honored.” He felt bad about bringing up Garak, but he genuinely believed that having him there would do more good than harm. “Nerys,” he said, his brows drawing together and upward at the center, “I want to ask you something, and I...I know it's going to be difficult to hear.”  
   
She stopped walking and touched him lightly on the back of the hand, drawing him aside into an alcove. “Ask,” she said sincerely, meeting his gaze squarely.  
   
He realized then that things had changed profoundly between them. Whereas before, she tolerated him and perhaps liked him in an abstract sort of way, now she viewed him with respect and gratitude. She was treating him as an equal. He forced himself to hold the black gaze and willed her to understand his reasoning. “I...want to invite Garak to the funeral,” he said.  
   
“Julian!” she said with such hurt reproach he immediately regretted the decision. However, he knew that if he backed down from it without even offering an explanation, she would believe he asked for purely selfish reasons, which couldn't be further from the truth.  
   
“Vedek Bareil believed in this treaty,” he said earnestly, “with everything he had. Legate Turrel is gone, and Winn is already over-inflating her importance in the negotiations. Garak knows what Bareil did, and he respects it. You and I both know that extremist factions on both worlds are just looking for an excuse to undermine the hard work. Having a Cardassian presence at the funeral will underscore his importance and remind people of who really made this happen.”  
   
She narrowed her eyes and folded her arms tightly beneath her breasts. “Did Garak put you up to this?” she asked.  
   
“No. In fact, when I suggested it to him, he said he'd have no part of it if you didn't agree wholeheartedly, and he instructed me specifically not to push you. Nerys, I'm not pushing, but I wanted you to understand my reasons for asking.”  
   
She reacted with surprise to that, her expression growing troubled, and then thoughtful. “It does make sense,” she said quietly. She sighed. “More importantly, it's exactly the sort of thing Antos would have wanted. All right, Julian, he can come, but if we're bringing him, we should probably bring Odo, too.”  
   
“Surely you don't believe he'd try something in the runabout or on Bajor?” he asked.  
   
Once more, she gave him her reproach, though not as forcefully as when he first broached the subject. “No,” she said impatiently, “but I wouldn't put it past someone on Bajor to try to do something to him.”  
   
He hadn't even considered that, frowning. “You're right,” he said. It was on the tip of his tongue to suggest they scrap the whole idea when he realized just how selfish that would be. Garak, himself, must have known the inherent danger in what Julian was proposing. If he was willing to make the gesture, and another man had already given his life to make that gesture possible, who was Julian to balk, particularly while facing the woman who had the difficult task of continuing after loss? “If you want us to ride separately, or sit somewhere else...” he offered.  
   
Her jaw tightened to a determined look he had come to know well. “No,” she said. “If we're going to do this, then we're going to do this all the way. He'll sit with us. It's what Antos would've wanted.”  
   
He respected her so much in that moment, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her into the tightest hug he could manage to comfort her. She wouldn't want that, though. Her control was already hanging by a thread. Any such gesture on his part could completely unravel it, and he knew she'd be mortified. “If you need anything,” he said, reaching to squeeze her shoulder and leaving his hand there a few moments longer than he normally would, “please, don't hesitate to ask.”  
   
She took a deep breath. “There is one thing,” she said. At his nod of encouragement, she continued. “Please, tell Garak that unless I talk to him, I don't want him talking to me. I'm sorry,” she added quickly, “but the last thing I can take right now is some sort of misguided attempt at comforting me from a Cardassian.”  
   
“I understand,” he said, and he did. “I think he'll understand, too. Were situations reversed, he would almost certainly feel the same way.”  
   
She nodded. “Thank you. I should go. I have a million things to do before we leave.”  
   
He watched her hurry away with mixed feelings about the whole idea, but he still felt that it was the right thing to do. He walked to Garak's shop to let him know what had been decided. After that he had several things to tend, himself, such as finalizing his notes and record of the vedek's passing and making certain that staffing would be adequate in his absence.  
   
_Garak  
USS Mekong, heading Bajor_  
   
Seated toward the back of the runabout, Garak did his best to be unobtrusive. Julian and Odo piloted, and Major Kira sat midway between them and Garak. The only words he had exchanged with the woman took place right before they boarded. He had simply asked her if she was certain she was all right with having him there. Her reply had been less than encouraging, that what she wanted was secondary in this matter. Although he understood the custom and need to respect the dead, he would never understand the desire to live one's life following supposed wishes or dictates of them. The dead had no wishes. Desire was the purview solely of the living.  
   
He had never seen a Bajoran burial of state. He thought of his and his father's—he would always think of Tolan Garak as his father—work in the Tarlak Sector on Cardassia Prime, tending the gardens and monuments to Cardassia's great fallen, and felt a deep ache. He missed Tolan's stoic wisdom and gruff affection. In all his life, perhaps aside from his Julian, he believed that no one, not even Mila, had ever loved him more.  
   
He thought of the Bajoran burials he had seen, grubby affairs of half starved people keening ancient words over broken bodies and scrabbling in the dirt, sometimes with their bare hands, to give a proper send off to their deceased. Inadvertently, he cast Bareil and Kira in the roles, and he felt his gut clench, for a very brief moment wondering if he'd be ill. He knew his people, his government. Was it sedition to hope that for once, their intentions were at least somewhat straightforward?  _You've been gone from home too long,_ he thought direly.  _You don't even sound like yourself anymore._  A quieter, more insidious voice asked, _Is that so bad?_  He grunted softly. When Kira whipped her head around, he turned it into a convincing cough. She looked away just as quickly.  
   
Eventually, Julian and Odo brought the runabout into synchronous orbit of Bajor. Garak, Julian, and Kira gathered their bags, Odo his bucket, and the four transported down to the surface. Several vedeks stepped from the front doors of Bareil's former monastery to greet them. “If you'll please come this way, we have rooms prepared for you,” a fair haired man in the lead said. “I'm sure you'll want to refresh yourselves after your journey.”  
   
“Thank you, Daran,” Kira said, stepping to the fore of their small group. “This is Doctor Julian Bashir,” she gestured at Julian. Garak noticed the shift in expressions. They knew very well who Julian was, and they respected him greatly. “Deep Space Nine's Security Chief, Odo,” she continued, and they seemed to know who Odo was, too, “and Garak, the tailor who lives on the station.” Oh, yes, they knew who he was, also, all but two of them showing a subtle negative reaction. He knew Odo would see it, but he wondered about Julian and Kira. He was more curious about the two who didn't react than those who did. He inclined his head in the traditional way of his people and followed along with them.  
   
The heavy wooden doors swung shut behind them, closing with a dull thud. Garak felt a small shiver crawl over his scalp. He never liked that sound. It didn't matter that the courtyard was spacious and laid out in a pleasing way. There was a closed, locked door at his back, and tall, thick walls encircled the monastery compound. He focused instead on the sky above him with its lacy tracery of high white clouds. It was too blue by far and more humid than he cared for, but he breathed the fresh air deeply, regretting when they led the group inside.  
   
The wide foyer smelled of jumja wax candles and mapa bread. One of the vedeks who hadn't shown a negative reaction to Garak stepped to his side. He tensed slightly. “I'll be taking you to your quarters,” the woman said to him pleasantly.  
   
“You'll be taking us to our quarters,” Odo corrected her, stepping up beside Garak.  
   
“Of course,” she said, not missing a beat. “Right this way, but if you change your mind, we do have a room set aside for you.”  
   
“I won't be changing my mind,” Odo grated.  
   
“I'll catch up to you in a bit,” Julian called to him as he and Major Kira were led toward a different corridor.  
   
He didn't like to admit how glad he was that Odo was there. The entire situation had him on edge. He had no faith in the inherent goodness of vedeks, or any other sort of priests for that matter. He had even less faith in Bajorans and their intentions when it came to him. He and Odo followed the woman down a narrower, darker passageway. The scent of bread and candles faded, replaced with the dry scent of dust. Looking down, he noticed that a thin layer of it lined the floor, interrupted at the center by the recent passage of feet, not including their own.  
   
“Here we are,” she said, opening the arched door and letting the two precede her inside the small room. It had no window and a somewhat stale scent, although someone had tried to remedy that with a plate of freshly picked leaves of some sort. Their astringent fragrance lent an antiseptic touch, not at all pleasant to his refined sense of smell. The bed didn't seem to belong in the room, as it was cleaner than the rickety shelves lining the wall opposite it. Something had been stored on those shelves that was no longer there, recently removed if he was to believe the dust rings illuminated by dim, yellowish artificial light.  
   
_Hiding the silver while the riffraff comes to visit?_  He thought sardonically.  
   
“We thought you might be more comfortable away from the main areas of foot traffic,” she explained solicitously. “If you'd prefer other quarters, it can be arranged, of course.”  
   
“No,” he said, “this is fine. Thank you for your hospitality.” He was careful to keep his internal sarcasm to himself. Sticking someone in what was obviously an old storeroom was anything but hospitable by any standards of which he was aware.  
   
She pressed her hands together and gave him a small bow. “You're free to explore the grounds as you like, but please be back within the main building by sun down. We lock the doors then, and we don't open them again until morning. Also, please stay away from the temple. We're asking that everyone except members of our order stay out.”  
   
“Understood,” Odo said, setting his bucket down beneath the lowest shelf.  
   
“If you need anything, ask for Alith. That's me,” she said, gifting both of them a pretty smile and hurrying away.  
   
“I suppose I'm expected to find the facilities while I'm 'exploring',” Garak said dryly.  
   
Odo snorted softly. “I wouldn't recommend you do too much wandering about. No matter what she said, I get the feeling they won't appreciate running into you unexpectedly.”  
   
“Really?” Garak asked, giving the changeling his best innocent face.  
   
“Don't start, Garak,” he said, shaking his head. “My job is going to be difficult enough as it is. I don't like the way they were looking at you.”  
   
“Alith and my unknown male admirer?” he asked.  
   
Odo favored him with a long, considering look. “Exactly.” With a wet sound, he shifted to golden liquid and snaked about Garak's waist. Seconds later, Garak had a new belt.  
   
He sighed, feeling very put upon. Having Odo look out for him was one thing. Having to wear Odo was another matter. “Really, Constable,” he said testily, “if you're going to do that, at least match my shoes.”  
   
The belt buckle formed a mouth, “Garak...” it warned.  
   
“I'm serious!” he said. “No one will believe it isn't you, otherwise.”  
   
“Fine,” the belt said with Odo's voice, rippling and changing to an exact match of the material of his ankle boots.  
   
“Also, Constable, if you could try not talking? Having a conversation with my belt is a tad too surreal for my taste at the best of times, and this is not the best of times.”  
   
“Hmph,” he said and then stilled, the buckle reshaping to resemble plain metal.  
   
Garak picked up the plate of leaves and headed back down the corridor. As he walked, he took a close look at the tracks in the dust. As far as he could tell, they happened when a couple of people were bringing the bed. Here and there, he saw where they may have set it down and a couple of spots where a leg briefly dragged. He bent and swiped a finger over one of the drag marks. No dust. So the bed was moved very recently, probably when they were informed he was coming.  
   
He emerged back in the foyer, looking for a place to dump the smelly leaves. He almost bumped into Kira and Julian as they emerged from their wing. “What are you doing with a plate of deka leaves?” Kira asked.  
   
“Trying to dispose of them, Major. They were in my room, and I'm afraid I find the scent unbearable.”  
   
She briefly tucked her upper lip behind her lower teeth. “I wouldn't move those if I were you,” she said.  
   
“Why not?” he asked.  
   
“They're usually used to keep vermin out. If they had a plate in your room, you might be subject to night visitors without them,” she replied. “Where is your room, anyway, and for that matter, where's Odo?”  
   
The belt squeezed him lightly. He almost jumped, pushing his stomach out forcefully as though to say,  _Stop that!_ “My room is down this way,” he showed her the corridor. “As for the Constable, I believe he's off somewhere getting the lay of the land.” He eyed the leaves and considered. “Are you sure they aren't just trying to send me a message, Major?” he asked.  
   
She made an impatient noise. “They're not like that here,” she said, snatching the plate out of his hand. A few thin leaves drifted downward. “Come on. I'll show you.”  
   
Cutting a glance at Julian, he followed in her wake, regretting his decision more and more by the moment. She shoved open his door and immediately began looking along the base of the walls close to the floor. “Aha,” she said, pointing. “There. You see that?”  
   
He dutifully looked and noticed a small, unevenly gnawed hole. He frowned, “Why don't they stop it up with something?”  
   
“Because if they do, it will just chew another hole somewhere else,” she said, glancing around the small room. She frowned slightly and set the plate near the hole. “I could have them give you another room. This looks like some old storage room. If they were keeping food in here, the leaves might not be enough to stop the tikkas.”  
   
“What happens if these...tikkas...come into my room in the night?” he asked warily.  
   
“They won't hurt you, but they might get into your things. If they do, they'll shred your folded clothes and scent mark. It's...hard to get out.”  
   
_Lovely,_  he thought. “No, Major, I don't want to be an imposition on the vedeks. They went through the trouble of getting the bed in here. It would be rude of me to turn my nose up at the accommodations.”  
   
“It's rude of them to stick you in a storeroom,” Julian murmured. Garak shot him a warning look.  
   
She lifted his bag from the bed and stuffed it on the highest shelf. “They'd have a hard time getting to it up there,” she said. “That should keep your things safe for the short amount of time we intend to be here. Did Alith show you where the communal facilities are?” He shook his head. “Come on then. I'll take you there.”  
   
“I'm going outside to get some fresh air,” Julian said. “You can come find me later if you like, Garak.”  
   
“Thank you, Doctor,” he said politely. He didn't know if Julian had told Major Kira or Odo yet that they were back together, and being private as a rule, he didn't intend to show it overtly, particularly given the circumstances.  
   
He followed Major Kira down the wider, better lit corridor all the way to the end. They turned right, and she pushed open a heavy door. “You're aware that there are no differentiated facilities for men and women here, right?” she asked him.  
   
He hadn't been aware, but he was glad to be told. “I am now, Major,” he said. “Thank you. Is there anything in particular I should avoid doing so as not to offend?”  
   
“Basically just don't stare,” she said with a one shouldered shrug. “And don't be afraid to call anyone out for staring at you. They all know better, even the prylars.”  
   
He nodded, taking this all in with more outward calm than he felt. Cardassians were a modest people. They didn't readily reveal their bodies, only to close family and lovers, and only in certain circumstances. He didn't like the thought of being walked in on while cleaning himself or in a more vulnerable state of relieving himself. She didn't have to worry that he'd stare. He didn't think he'd be able to lift his gaze from the floor if anyone else were present. He became aware that she was observing him and was immensely grateful for the fact that except in very specific circumstances, Cardassian skin wasn't given to changing shades.  
   
“I know it's not...easy...for you to be here,” she said. “When Julian approached me about it, I wasn't thrilled, but...I appreciate the gesture, and I think at least some of my people will, too. I know you're taking a risk. I just...wanted to tell you that.”  
   
“Thank you, Major,” he said, inclining his head deeply. “The vedek was a credit to your people.” They held eye contact for the space of a few breaths, something passing between them, although if asked, he couldn't say what.  
   
She let out a breath he hadn't been aware she was holding. “I think I'm going to go meditate for a while in my room,” she said. “Would you have Odo or Julian come get me if I don't show up for supper? Sometimes I fall asleep if I go too deep.”  
   
“Of course,” he said. They parted company in the corridor. He caught a glimpse of her room as she slipped through the door. It was sunlit and spacious, filled with flowers, and immaculate. If he had needed any further confirmation that Bareil's people were slighting him, that was it.  
   
Sighing to himself, he pushed open the heavy front door and walked out into too bright sunlight. Then again, maybe they were trying to be accommodating in their own way. They surely knew of Cardassian sensitivity to bright light. If all of their guest rooms had windows, he would be subject to intense discomfort either in the morning or the afternoon, depending upon which way his window faced. So early in the game, it was impossible to discern their true intent.  
   
His feet found a worn path that didn't easily show in the swept dirt of the courtyard. He followed it instinctively, circling around the side of the main living quarters. Dirt gave way to greenery, and as he explored further, he came into what must have been Bareil's arboretum. He had heard several of his customers speak of it in addition to the Major from time to time.  
   
As he stood in the cathedral of green, he thought once again of Tolan. How he would have loved to see this, a magical place of running, brown, dimpled water, bright splashes of color where least expected, and sculptures that blended so well with their surroundings that one could almost believe they grew there naturally. His fingers itched to delve into the deep, black dirt, but he knew better than to do any such thing. He doubted that any of the vedeks would take kindly to a Cardassian imposing his own idea of order in their fallen brother's domain.  
   
As he turned slowly in place, taking it all in, he thought he saw a flash of orange through thickly clustered leaves. He strode forward quickly. By the time he arrived, there was nothing there save for one suspiciously bobbing leaf. He tapped his “belt” and felt it ripple in response. Odo had seen.  
   
“There you are!” Julian exclaimed so loudly that he jumped.  
   
“Doctor!” he said in his most put out tone of voice. “How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that?”  
   
Julian frowned. “I wasn't sneaking. It's not my fault you can't hear normal footsteps on soft ground. It's truly beautiful, isn't it? A real testament to the kind of man Vedek Bareil was.”  
   
“It is,” Garak agreed. “It almost makes me wish that I had the chance to get to know him better.”  
   
“Almost?” the doctor asked, stepping to his side.  
   
Garak turned to look at a bromeliad perched in the crook of a tree just as Julian tried to slip a hand into his. He pretended that he hadn't seen. “Yes, almost. I don't have much patience for religious twaddle, I'm afraid.”  
   
“I'm not religious, myself,” the doctor said. “That doesn't mean we have to treat the Bajoran beliefs with dismissive contempt. After all, there really is a wormhole, and there really are aliens living inside it.”  
   
“Exactly,” Garak said, glancing at him by turning his body. It was a rare Cardassian who could turn his head at such a sharp angle. “Aliens living in an artificial construct, not prophets living in a temple. Tell me, Doctor, would you think it rational to worship, oh, I don't know...how about the Q Continuum?”  
   
“Of course not,” he scoffed. “But if I didn't know who they were, and I lived somewhere they made frequent appearances without revealing their natures or identities, I might be convinced that they were gods. Is that so hard to accept?”  
   
Garak fixed him with a brilliant blue gaze. “Any 'gods' that would allow their people to suffer the way the Bajorans did during the occupation deserve to have a mob at their proverbial doorstep with disruptor cannons and phaser banks, not hoards of worshipers chanting ancient chants and hoping everything will somehow turn out all right,” he said. “We Cardassians did the sensible thing long ago and turned our backs on our goddess as soon as she turned her back on us.”  
   
“Your goddess?” Julian asked, intrigued. “I didn't know Cardassians ever had a unified religion.”  
   
“Cardassians didn't,” Garak replied mysteriously. He refused to elaborate any further, no matter how Julian hounded him with questions. He tipped an eye toward the sky, judging the light level through the treetops. “I believe it's time for us to go inside,” he said. “We don't want to get locked out here until morning, no matter how lovely it is. I doubt the night insects would be gentle on either of us.”

**Part II**

_Julian  
Monastery Dining Hall  
Bajor_  
   
The meal was a simple one, but it made up for lack of variety, just hasperat and mapa bread, with quantity and quality. Serving dishes and pitchers of water and tea lined the centers of the two long dining tables with the diners expected to help themselves. Odo was back from wherever he had been, and Garak had changed clothes for some reason. He didn't give it too much thought, because he was starving by the time they got around to eating. He had to admit that maybe Garak was onto something about religion when prayers dragged on and on with all that delicious food tantalizingly in reach and smelling delectable.  
   
He expected the dinner conversation to be subdued and somber. He couldn't have been further from the truth. The vedeks, ranjens, and prylars of Bareil's order conversed with one another and the guests in their midst freely. Bareil became the topic of conversation many times in the night. Apparently, he could be something of a prankster and was a terrible cook. “Prophets!” a raucous young man who was seated two stools down from Julian said as he wiped his eyes from the spicy hasperat, “Do you remember the time he tried to substitute the pickling brine for the hasperat when the kitchen ran out?”  
   
“I told him my mother could do a better job,” somebody else interjected. He paused a beat. “He had my mother's cooking. He knew what an insult that was!” Laughter rang all round.  
   
“Your mother's cooking is the insult!” the first speaker said, followed by more laughter and general agreement from all quarters.  
   
Glancing at Kira, he saw her smiling and laughing along with the rest of them, her large, dark eyes shining. She seemed to be taking all of these little tidbits of information in, small slices of a life well lived, and holding them close. There were times in the past when Julian had found himself in awe of the Bajoran spirit and their ability to put a good face on the worst of circumstances. He felt it all over again, that in the midst of their pain, all of these people who loved Bareil Antos, as a brother, a friend, or a lover, found the laughter and the moments to celebrate rather than a reason to mourn.  
   
Glancing to his right a few seats down, he could just see Odo with his habitual expression of keen observation. He noticed the changeling politely engaged anyone who addressed him, but he was obviously out of his element in all of the unbridled cheer. Garak seemed to have disappeared entirely. He looked around sharply with a start, only to find the man just one vedek away from him to his left. How had he missed that the first time? He made eye contact with the Cardassian over the short woman's head and read faint amusement there. Had he done something amusing? He didn't think so; however, he felt certain the amusement was directed at him and not at what was happening around them. He doubted that the tailor would tell him what it was if he asked, so instead he gave him a warm smile, continued his tongue punishing meal, and tuned back in to the conversation.  
   
“If you want hasperat that'll strip your tongue, let this one in the kitchen,” Daran said, pointing at the top of Kira's head from his seat beside her.  
   
The Major smiled modestly and put a hand up. “Now, Daran, don't go spreading tales,” she said. “I'm useless with anything domestic.”  
   
“Bah! Nonsense!” He looked around at the others nearby and put a hand to his chest. “Never in my life had better than the night we managed to get her in the kitchen to do something besides filch pinches of bread dough.”  
   
She laughed and swatted his arm. “Well, I felt guilty,” she said, “after I ruined the arboretum pathway like an Andorian bull in a tea shop! I had to do something useful.”  
   
“Who'd have thought that anyone could break rocks with their bare hands?” Daran asked, laughing.  
   
“Don't forget Antos' poor foot,” she added.  
   
He wished that he had something to add. Unfortunately, most of his interactions with the vedek came after the man was in his infirmary fighting for his life. They weren't the sort of anecdotes that would fit with the flow of the conversation. When the meal ended, they all lingered for just a while to give those with kitchen duty time to clear off all the plates and cups. Then it was time for them to take their evening prayers and for the guests to get settled in for the night.  
   
Julian was glad to see how many members of the small community came to offer Kira hugs and how receptive she was to their outpouring of affection. Seeing her relaxed among her own people like that, he realized that in so many ways he didn't know her at all. He hardly recognized this smiling, gracious woman who was so quick to laugh and joke. Glancing at Garak, he had the same thought of him. How would Garak be in a group of Cardassians around whom he was comfortable? It pained him to think that he may never have the chance to find out.  
   
As much as he wanted to be able to hug and kiss the man good-night, he refrained. He didn't want to push anything in Kira's face, and he definitely didn't feel comfortable asking Odo to give them a moment of privacy. He said his good-nights cheerfully, hugged Kira because she was receptive to it and in a decent mood, and retreated to his room.  
   
He liked the room a lot. The walls were covered with a warm, honey toned stucco. The furnishings were all obviously hand made and crafted very well, and best of all was the bed, a nice, soft bed piled with woven blankets in rich earth tones. His oval window during the day had shown him a view over the arboretum. Now it was a black circle in the wall that reflected the room and his own face back to him when he stood before it. When he listened hard, he could hear the sounds of night insects and some other sorts of fauna sawing, whistling, and croaking into the night air. That was one thing he missed living on a space station.  
   
Shaking his head at his fanciful thoughts, he grabbed his tooth cleaner and headed toward the communal bath. He found Odo standing in the corridor just outside the door leading inside. “What are you doing?” he asked, startled.  
   
“Standing guard for Garak,” the changeling said. “He wanted warning before anyone walked in on him.”  
   
Thinking of how private his lover was, Julian inwardly winced. The communal bathing arrangement had to be all but torture for the Cardassian. “That's very kind of you, Odo,” he said.  
   
“I understand the desire for privacy, Doctor,” Odo replied. He suddenly smiled very slightly. “I believe in your case, he may make an exception.”  
   
Julian felt his cheeks color. If anyone managed to surprise him more with his observational skills than Garak, it had to be Odo. “Thank you, Constable,” he said, offering him a genuine smile and passing into the room beyond.  
   
Garak turned from his ablutions at one of the sinks and relaxed when he saw who it was. “I don't like to complain,” he said, amusing Julian, for complaining had never seemed to be a difficulty of the tailor's, “but this bathing arrangement is downright primitive. Do you realize they don't even separate male from female?” He sounded thoroughly taken aback.  
   
“The vedeks share everything equally here,” Julian said, stepping over to him and sneaking a quick kiss to his cheek. “I think it's very nice, actually, that they let nothing stand in the way of their sense of community and common goals.”  
   
Garak blotted his face dry with his towel and regarded Julian via their shared reflection in the large mirror before them. “Much the same could be said of us Cardassians,” he said with a lilt to his voice the doctor had come to recognize as enjoyment in scoring a point on him, “a sense of community and common goals, and we have achieved great things in a relatively short amount of time...without ever sharing our bathrooms with one another. It's refreshing to see someone from Starfleet, with their unhealthy obsession with individuality, recognize the value in the collective.”  
   
With his lips twitching, Julian took an end of Garak's towel and draped it around his neck, pulling him nose to nose with him. “My dearest tailor,” he purred, “nobody likes a know-it-all.” He was rewarded with one of the sounds he liked best in the world and didn't hear nearly often enough, Garak's free, openly amused laughter. The tailor generously waited for him to finish cleaning his teeth and washing his face so that they could share a very brief, yet very intimate kiss. “Sleep well,” Julian told him, letting him precede him from the bathroom. For his part, he planned to take full advantage of the chance to sleep in a soft, comfortable bed for a change.  
   
He awakened to knocking at his door while his window showed the blue black of deep night. His disorientation and sleepiness told him it was nowhere near time for him to get up. There was a strangely furtive and urgent quality to that knocking. He stumbled from the bed, trailing a blanket half over his shoulders, and threw back his small bolt. Kira almost bowled him over barging into the room followed closely on her heels by Odo. “We have a problem,” she said. “Garak is missing.”  
   
_Odo  
Julian's Monastery Quarters  
Bajor_  
   
It was one of the few things he truly loathed about his own nature, the limitation that required him to return to his liquid state every sixteen hours. No matter what his intentions, he never managed to retain any sense of awareness whatsoever when in that state. He likened it to what the solids called sleep, except for the fact that he couldn't be awakened or brought out of it until the time was up. He had watched Garak bolt the door from the inside when the two of them retired to their shared quarters, turned out the light, and heard the Cardassian's breathing slow and even out into the pattern he recognized as asleep. When it came time for him to pour into his bucket, he hadn't worried overly much that anything would happen, but when he had come out of the cycle, Garak was gone, his bed cold, and the bolt on the door thrown open.  
   
He explained all of this succinctly to the doctor, having already told Nerys. He didn't like the wide, worried look in the man's open face, liked even less that something had happened on his watch to cause it. He liked this human doctor, more than he liked most of the other Starfleeters, and in his own way, he liked Garak, too. “I see no choice but to awaken the vedeks and begin a search of the buildings and grounds,” he said.  
   
“Agreed,” Kira said, raking a hand impatiently back through her short hair. “Did he say anything odd to you, Odo, give any sort of indication that he intended to walk around at night?”  
   
“No,” he said. “I briefly left the room so that he could dress for bed. When I returned, he latched the door, climbed under the covers, and asked me to turn out the light. He fell asleep very quickly.”  
   
“How quickly?” the doctor interjected.  
   
“Within five minutes,” the changeling said. “Why?”  
   
Bashir frowned slightly. “That's not like him,” he said, “especially in a strange place. Even when he's perfectly comfortable with where he is, it usually takes him at least a half hour.”  
   
“Maybe he had a stressful day,” Kira offered. “Being around all of us like this can't be easy for him.”  
   
“No,” the doctor said. “I mean, yes, I'm sure this is taxing for him, but if anything, that would make him less likely to be able to sleep, not more. Constable, did he seem to you as though he were in pain? Any signs of stress or a headache?”  
   
Odo thought back to how Garak looked before bed. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Nothing like that. In fact he looked very relaxed in the bed.”  
   
“He didn't mention that the bed was too soft?” Bashir pressed.  
   
“No,” Odo said, starting to feel impatient. “Doctor, if you're getting at something, please make your point.”  
   
“Well, I'm not sure, but it sounds like there's a possibility he was drugged,” he said, frowning.  
   
“I'll go awaken Daran,” Kira said grimly. “I am not looking forward to this conversation. Odo, why don't you and Julian go back to the room and have another look, see if there's anything you might have missed,” she suggested.  
   
He didn't feel confident that the doctor's presence would make much of a difference in what he could observe, but he kept the remark to himself. There was no sense in being insulting. Nodding, he waited for Bashir to dress in his uniform, and the two of them hurried down the dimly lit corridor toward the foyer. When they reached it, he held a hand up for the doctor to wait. On his first passage through here after the realization that Garak was gone, he had been intent on nothing more than awakening Nerys and informing her of the problem. Now he wanted a closer look. He peered at the floor, walking slowly all around the area of the front door and then backtracking toward the smaller passage that led to the storeroom.  
   
“What are we looking for?” Bashir asked, watching him anxiously.  
   
“I don't know yet,” Odo said, “anything out of place or out of the ordinary, any sign that Garak may have come this way. Check the doors, Doctor; see if they're still locked.” He figured that if he gave the man something to do, he'd be more likely to stay out of his way.  
   
“They are,” the doctor said, tugging sharply on each.  
   
Odo nodded, figuring as much. He looked at all the tracks in the dust of the passage. Unfortunately, they had passed through there several times since their arrival. Any tracks he saw that looked like they could have come from Garak could have come at any time during that time frame. Bashir crowded closer to him than he liked. Again, he held his tongue. If he snapped at him, it would just agitate him and keep him from being as useful as he might be otherwise.  
   
They reached the room together. Odo had the doctor hang back while he took one final thorough look then let him inside. The bed showed no signs of a struggle, the covers thrown back as one would expect from someone simply getting up in the night. Nothing else had been disturbed or removed from the room as far as he could tell. He watched the doctor take down Garak's bag and begin going through it.  
   
“This is odd,” Bashir said. “All of his clothes are in here, except for his pajamas and a belt I saw him wearing earlier.”  
   
“Mm,” Odo said, surprised that he had noticed. Maybe Garak hadn't just been being difficult when he insisted that Odo match his boots. His respect for both men notched up a tad. So few solids had any real appreciation for detail. “The belt isn't missing,” he told the doctor. “I was the belt. He was wearing pajamas when he went to bed.”  
   
Bashir gave a start. “You were the—well, never mind. That makes sense. What doesn't make sense to me at all is that Garak would go wandering around the monastery in the middle of the night in nothing more than his pajamas. You saw how he was about the bathroom. He would never willingly allow a bunch of Bajorans to see him in such a state of undress.”  
   
Odo opened his mouth to say more, but Major Kira and Daran interrupted him, striding swiftly into the room. “I've called an assembly in the meeting hall,” Daran informed them without preamble. “I've called everyone to be there with the exception of the two staffing the temple to watch over Vedek Bareil's body. They simply cannot be called away, but if you need them questioned, I can do that for you.”  
   
“I'm going to need access to the kitchen and the dinner dishes,” Doctor Bashir said. “I'm afraid that Garak may have been drugged.”  
   
“Drugged how?” Kira asked. “We all ate and drank the same things. If Garak was drugged, wouldn't that mean that all of us were?”  
   
“Not necessarily, Major,” Odo said. “There are ways.” He turned his attention to Daran. “With your permission, I'd like access to all of the personnel files you have on everyone here.”  
   
“What are you looking for?” the vedek asked warily.  
   
“I'll know it when I see it,” the changeling told him with an expectant look.  
   
“Well,” the man said reluctantly, “all right. I wouldn't usually do this, but the last thing we need is an incident with the Cardassian Union so shortly after the signing of the treaty.” All four of them looked at one another, and in an instant, they knew they had hit upon a very likely motive.  
   
Kira made a soft, impatient sound. “As much as I hate to have to do it, I should probably go inform the Kai personally. I don't want this getting to her some other way.” She looked at the other three sharply. “I don't need to tell you how damaging this could be to all of us and Antos' hard work if it gets out. We need to keep this under wraps for as long as we possibly can. Julian, don't contact Deep Space Nine about this unless you absolutely have to. For now, it's a Bajoran matter, not a Starfleet one, and I intend to keep it that way.”  
   
The doctor nodded his understanding. “Keep in close touch with me, both of you,” he said. “As soon as you find anything, I want to know. I'm going to have to use the lab facilities on the Mekong. Use the secured channel for anything sensitive.”  
   
Odo and Kira nodded. “If you can take me somewhere I can start analyzing those personnel files, I'd appreciate it,” he told Daran. They all spread out. They had a lot of work to do, and time wasn't on their side. The funeral would be starting in less than eight hours.  
   
_Kira  
Kai Winn's Abode  
Bajor_  
   
With Daran's support, it was easy gaining access to the Kai's home at the monastery. Kira found herself admitted right away and led to a small side room that was tastefully appointed and smelled strongly of incense. However, the wait seemed interminable.  _Urgent means urgent, damn it,_  she thought with intense frustration as she paced a tight circle. What had possessed her to listen to Julian and bring Garak along? Every instinct had yelled at her that it was a horrible idea and that nothing good could come of it. She had wanted to believe differently, wanted to hope the way Antos had hoped. What had hope ever gotten her but kicked in the teeth, repeatedly? She ground those teeth now and wished that she could storm Winn's bedroom and demand to speak to her right away. Every passing second brought them closer to disaster.  
   
When the Kai swept into the room, she was fully dressed and bejeweled. To look into those cool, glass green eyes, one would never believe that the middle aged woman had been awakened in the middle of the night. “My goodness, child,” she said mildly, “you're in quite a state.”  
   
Kira frowned, feeling her shoulders twitch at the hated address. Had it come from Kai Opaka, it would've sounded comforting. Coming from Winn it was pure condescension, and it grated every last nerve. “That's because I've been here at least fifteen minutes,” she said sharply.  
   
Winn graced her with a small smile and tilted her head. “I'm here now, Major, and you're wasting even more precious time complaining instead of getting to the point.”  
   
Pressing her lips together so hard they numbed, Kira gave a taut nod. “You're right. We have a problem. Garak has gone missing.”  
   
“The Cardassian you insisted on bringing here?” Winn asked, her eyes widening.  
   
“I didn't insist!” Kira said, outraged. She swiftly shifted tacks. Letting the insufferable woman bait her would solve nothing. “That doesn't matter right now. What matters is that he's gone, and it's already looking as though it could be foul play.”  
   
Winn turned away from her, one hand to her chest lightly, the other fiddling with a curtain cord. “I knew that it was a bad idea to allow you to do this,” she said heavily. “I was trying to give some...concession...to the pain I know you feel at Antos' passing.” She paused and gave Kira an almost coy look over her shoulder. “Sentimental thinking just leads to trouble, child. You see that now, don't you?”  
   
“I don't need a lesson from you in sentiment,” Kira retorted. “We've got to find Garak before the funeral!”  
   
“Yes, you do,” Winn agreed, “which makes me wonder what you're doing here at all. Shouldn't you be turning the grounds upside down looking for him?”  
   
Her temper was a pressure building in her chest to unbearable levels. The fact that she held it bore testament only to her respect for the woman's position, not for the woman herself. “I felt that you deserved to hear this in person rather than finding it out some other way, and I wanted to give you time to come up with a plan in case we don't find him in time.”  
   
The woman smiled and turned back to face her fully. “In truth I had long since stopped expecting such courtesy from you,” she said. “Perhaps our vedek's passing has shown you the importance of coming together in a time of crisis. I certainly hope so, at least, that more good came from his loss than I ever expected. Thank you, Major.”  
   
Kira narrowed her eyes. “You don't seem worried at all,” she said. “If I didn't know better, I'd think it possible you had something to do with this.”  
   
Almost imperceptibly, the false warmth in Winn's pale green eyes cooled. “It's a good thing that you do know better, given that you're the one who brought this unfortunate problem right to our doorstep,” she said, the hint of sharpness in her mellow alto a clear warning that Kira was treading on very dangerous ground. “I'm appalled that you would even entertain such a thought, given how tirelessly Antos and I worked to forge that treaty. If anything, isn't it far more likely that this Cardassian of yours,” she said in a way that made it sound to Kira as though she were referring to an errant pet, “wasn't happy with what we accomplished and has taken the opportunity to sabotage it? How well do you really know him, Major?” And that question had accusation and something even nastier and more barbed hidden in its honeyed undertone.  
   
She saw the verbal trap just before stumbling into it. If she said she barely knew Garak at all, the truth, she would be accused of having been careless in including him in the funeral arrangements. If she tried to feign more familiarity than she had, even if Winn didn't detect the lie, it would beg the question, why was she spending that much time in the company of the enemy? “I don't think he'd do that,” she managed, realizing she had to say something.  
   
“Based on what?” Winn pressed.  
   
“Odo trusts him,” she answered. It wasn't true at all, of course, but she didn't dare bring Julian into this or reveal his relationship with Garak to Winn. She could tell the woman already strongly disliked the doctor, and the Kai was a dangerous enemy to have. If she could protect Julian from that, she would.  
   
“I think you place more trust in the changeling's judgment than you ought sometimes,” Winn said. Kira couldn't be absolutely certain that she had taken her statement at face value, but as it wasn't like her to back down from a verbal advantage when she had it, it was likely. “Keep me abreast of your progress, Major. You have the resources of the monastery at your disposal for this.”  
   
Kira nodded tightly and turned to go, recognizing a dismissal when she heard it. She allowed none of her relief that the woman hadn't further pursued the line of questioning to show until she was out of the house and breathing the cool, humid air of nighttime Bajor. As she strode quickly back toward the communal housing complex, she reflected sourly that never in her short life had she thought she would trust any Cardassian more than the Kai of Bajor, but she did. She considered it far less likely that Garak would sabotage the treaty in this way than that Winn somehow had a hand in it and an ulterior motive. It wasn’t that she thought he was noble or selfless, far from it. He simply had more to gain personally from a Bajoran/Cardassian alliance than he did from the dissolution of the same. But what did Winn have to gain?  
   
Her eyes narrowed as she gave this hard thought, stepping back up to the double doors and through them into the dimly lit foyer. That was the trouble with Winn. She had a way of keeping your attention on what you could see until it was too late to stop what you couldn't see, her real angle, from happening. She found it ironic and annoying that the one person who might actually have been able to pierce any deviousness on the Kai's part was the very person they were looking for.  _Never thought I'd say I miss Garak,_  she thought dryly,  _but with something like this, he's useful._ She wanted to check in with Odo, hoping that his efforts were bearing more fruit.  
   
_Julian  
USS Mekong  
Science Lab_  
   
Sighing, Julian scrubbed his hands down his face and stared in dismay at the veritable mountain of dishes surrounding him in the small lab of the runabout. He had been assured that he was in possession of every dish that had been used at the large dinner. Grimly, he had already begun the painstaking task of scanning each one for traces of...he didn't even know what, something that would explain Garak's falling asleep quickly and not putting up a struggle against whoever had taken him. So far, he was getting nowhere, and with his mounting frustration came mounting worry. The Bajorans had every reason to hate Cardassians. He couldn't deny the brutal realities of the occupation. It gave him much more reason to fear for Garak's safety, for even though sabotage of the treaty might possibly be the goal of the abduction, that didn't mean that whoever did it wouldn't also take sadistic delight in dishing out paybacks. The quicker they could find him, the better chance they had of recovering him intact.  
   
The comm chimed, and he set down the mug in his hand to answer it. His blood froze when he saw the face that popped to life on his screen, not Odo or Major Kira as he expected, but Enabran Tain. “Hello, Doctor,” the agent said cheerfully. “I hadn't expected that you and I would see each other again so soon. I hope I'm not interrupting anything important?”  
   
His heart started thudding so hard in his chest that he thought the man would be able to hear it over the comm, weak Cardassian hearing notwithstanding. “Nothing that can't afford the interruption,” he said carefully. He tried in vain to read anything at all in the bland smile and the deep set dark eyes. He had seen the expression before dozens if not hundreds of times, just on a different face. No wonder Garak could be so inscrutable.  
   
“That's excellent to hear,” the elderly Cardassian said. “I would truly hate to tear you away from anything that required your full attention. I have a little problem, and it struck me that you were just the person to help me.”  
   
Julian swallowed in a suddenly dry throat. “I'm...flattered,” he said, “that you would think I could be of any use to you, given your vast resources.”  
   
Tain chuckled appreciatively. “There's no need for exaggeration, Doctor. My domain isn't what it was, and we both know it. I've misplaced something, and I have a strong suspicion that you may have seen it recently. My resources not withstanding, it's valuable to me. I left it in a very specific place, and I really don't appreciate others coming behind me and moving my things. You wouldn't happen to know where it is, would you?”  
   
“Not...specifically,” he said, finding it hard to breathe normally. The intense scrutiny of the Cardassian's gaze pierced straight to his marrow, even with the screen and who knew how much distance separating them. He shuddered to think how it would feel in person, and he didn't want to find out.  
   
“So you know what I'm referring to,” Tain said. “Excellent. I hate having to explain myself overly. You have no idea how tiresome that can get. Am I to glean hope from you that you have a general idea, then?”  
   
“I think so,” Julian said. “In fact, I'm looking for it, too.”  
   
The large Cardassian's look shifted from benign curiosity to reproach. “You told me I wasn't interrupting anything important,” he said, tsking once. “I suggest that you get back to it posthaste, Doctor Bashir, or it won't be just the Bajorans Cardassia holds responsible for this. This is the stuff interstellar incidents are made of.” The transmission cut abruptly.  
   
“Oh, God,” he gasped aloud, his thoughts racing as quickly as his heart. So much for keeping this from Commander Sisko. There was no way he could, not with that blatant threat still ringing in his ears. Bracing himself for quite possibly one of the worst ass chewings of his career, he sent a secure transmission directly to Commander Sisko's quarters. He didn't have time for this, but he couldn't ask Odo or Major Kira to do it. It wasn't their problem or their responsibility.  
   
Commander Sisko's face appeared, his quarters dark behind him, and his expression sleep muzzy. “Doctor,” he said thickly, “I hope you have a better reason for waking me up than the night you came to me asking for a runabout.”  
   
“I'm afraid so,” he said grimly, filling the man in quickly on everything that had happened and ending with that very chilling warning and threat from Tain.  
   
All traces of sleep fled from the Commander's face, his expression as thunderous as his question, “Exactly when did you intend to tell me about this, Doctor?”  
   
He sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He had no desire to throw Major Kira under a shuttle, so he tried to phrase it diplomatically. “The Bajorans wanted to handle this as an internal affair, and I was trying to respect that, Sir,” he said.  
   
“By the Bajorans, you mean Major Kira,” Sisko said, seeing right through it. “Where is she? I want to have a word with her.”  
   
“She's still on Bajor, Sir,” he answered, “conducting the investigation. I'll let her know that you want to speak to her as soon as I can. I really need to get back to my part of it,” he added, “unless you need me for something else?”  
   
“We haven't finished this discussion, Doctor Bashir,” Sisko said severely, “not by a long shot, but I'm letting you go for now to do what you need to do. From this point forward, I want you to keep me informed every step of the way. If I get contacted by the Cardassian Central Command or the Obsidian Order, I need to have something intelligent to tell them. Understood?”  
   
“Yes, Sir,” Julian said respectfully.  
   
“Sisko out,” the man growled and cut the transmission.  
   
_That went about as well as could be expected,_  he thought direly, knowing that he'd look back on this part of the discussion with nostalgia by the time Sisko was through with him. He couldn't think about that. He had to get back to work on those dishes, but not before one final thing. At the very least, he owed it to Kira to give her a heads up for what was coming her way. He put a call through to the monastery. Vedek Daran answered his hail. “Doctor?” he said, “have you found anything?”  
   
“I'm afraid not yet,” he said. “I need to speak to Major Kira at once.”  
   
“She's out with some of the vedeks combing the property. I can put you through to Constable Odo, though,” he replied.  
   
“Please, do so,” he said tersely, waiting. As soon as Odo's face came up on screen, he said, “Constable, I'm afraid we have a much bigger problem than we realized. I've had to contact Commander Sisko about the situation, because I was just contacted by Enabran Tain. I don't know how he knows, but he does. The Cardassian government is less than pleased, and so is the Commander. He wants to talk to the Major. I tried to deflect him. He'd have none of it.”  
   
Odo frowned and shook his head. “Tain,” he said, exasperated. “That puts a different spin on things.”  
   
“What do you mean?” Julian asked.  
   
“I have some news, too, Doctor, and it isn't good, I'm afraid. Two vedeks are missing, Alith and a man named Bannen. Daran noticed they were absent from the assembly he called, and we haven't been able to find them anywhere. It helped me narrow my search of the records, but that turned out to be less helpful than I had hoped. Both of them are operating under false identities. The forgeries were good ones. Without Daran's cooperation and Major Kira's knowledge of the Bajoran Resistance, I wouldn't have known what I was looking at.”  
   
“Who are they?” the doctor asked tightly, more clenched with worry than before, and he hadn't thought that possible.  
   
“I don't know yet. I'm still working on that. It seems interesting to me that Tain has gotten word of this so fast. It could indicate Cardassian involvement at some level.”  
   
Something he said clicked in Julian's mind, a leap of logic he usually tried to hide from those he worked with, but at the moment, he didn't have the time to play dumb. Garak's life hung in the balance. “Odo,” he said more sharply, “I need you to do me a favor. I need you to put me in touch with Doctor Mora right away.”  
   
“Doctor Mora?” Odo exclaimed, taken aback. “Why?”  
   
“I don't have time to explain. Just please do this, and ask him to cooperate with me. He might be...reluctant...otherwise,” he said.  
   
With narrowed eyes, Odo said, “Stand by. This will take a little time.”  
   
Nodding, Julian put that time to good use, taking blood and urine samples from himself, and starting the computer analyzing them. As a list of compounds and chemicals began scrolling on the display screen, the Bajoran doctor who had been responsible for the initial studies of Odo after he was first discovered appeared on his comm screen. The man's normally neatly combed hair was in disarray. He had obviously been roused from a deep sleep. “Doctor Bashir,” he said, covering a yawn, “I hope you'll forgive my appearance. Odo said this is a matter of urgency?”  
   
“Yes, and I hope that you'll forgive my intrusion and...presumption. You worked closely with the Cardassians during the occupation, and I'm in need of your expertise.”  
   
The Bajoran adopted a warier tone. “I did because I had to, Doctor. I'm not sure what you're implying...”  
   
“Believe me, I'm not trying to imply anything untoward,” he said hastily. “It's just that Starfleet has extremely inadequate knowledge of Cardassian physiology, and I am in desperate need of some of that knowledge right now. If I send you a chemical analysis of my own blood and urine, do you think you might be able to spot something that might badly affect a Cardassian but not a human or a Bajoran?”  
   
“It's possible,” the doctor said, rubbing at his eyes. “I'd need you to send it to my lab, though, not my home. It's going to take me about twenty minutes to get there. Is that going to be a problem?”  
   
“No,” he replied. “It will give me time to obtain a few samples from some Bajorans, too. I'll send all of the results your way as soon as I have them.” The man nodded, giving him a secure code for the transmission and ending the call.  
   
Odo reappeared on his screen. “Was there anything else you needed?” he asked.  
   
“As a matter of fact, yes. Can you have Daran gather a grouping of people who were at dinner tonight? Let them know that I want to take blood and urine samples, and that this is completely voluntary. I'll be beaming down shortly to come collect the samples.”  
   
“Very well,” Odo said. “I'll continue working on these records.”  
   
As long as he had something to do, he felt as though he could hold it together. His worry for Garak had to be held at bay, because if he really let himself think about it, he'd be paralyzed with fear and helplessness. Hours had already passed. They were running out of time for their deadline. Did that also mean that Garak was running out of time, period? He didn't know, and that was the worst part of it all, the not knowing. He collected the samples, beamed back to the Mekong, and sent all of his data to Doctor Mora. The search of the dishes themselves was proving absolutely fruitless. The act of washing them in hot, soapy water had destroyed anything that might have told him what he needed, which was why he hoped the biological samples would tell a different tale.  
   
After what seemed an interminable wait, Mora contacted him. He could already see from the satisfied gleam in the man's eyes that he had found something of note, and he listened eagerly. “I wish I knew more of what was going on over there,” the doctor said. “I've found what you were looking for. You're lucky you asked me when you did, Doctor. It breaks down rather quickly in the body, and all of you had already begun to metabolize it. It's a mild toxin called  _afresznia._  It's easily broken down both by humans and Bajorans, as well as several other races, but in Cardassians, it produces profound lethargy.”  
   
“Does it harm them?” he asked quickly.  
   
“No, Doctor. Think of it as a soporific and little more. However, there is no reason it should have been anywhere near what any of you were eating or drinking. The plant from which it is derived is actually very toxic and only grows in a few remote regions of Bajor. I'm sending you a topographical map to show you.”  
   
“Thank you, Doctor,” Julian said with deep sincerity. “You've helped me more than you know. If I can ever return the favor, all you have to do is ask.”  
   
“I'll keep that in mind,” Mora said in a way that had him slightly worried.  
   
He contacted Odo again, sending him the map and telling him what Mora had said of the plant. “I don't know if this will help or not,” he said. “I'm going to be scanning the grounds and the surrounding province with the Mekong's sensor array again. I've made some adjustments to try to compensate for the radiation interference I was getting from the natural rock formations beneath.” He wished in that moment that Dax was there. She knew much more about such things than he.  
   
“This does help me,” Odo said. “One of these valleys is in a region I've managed to connect to Alith. I'll get back to you when I have more.”  
   
“Don't bother,” Julian said. “If this scan isn't productive, I'm coming back to the planet. I've done all I can do here. Bashir out.”  
   
Despite the adjustments, he couldn't get any more definitive answers than he obtained with the first scan. The computer could tell him clearly that there were a multitude of life forms beneath the ship's orbital position, but it couldn't narrow what type they were. Giving up on that, he beamed back down again to rejoin the search in person.

**Part III**

_Kira  
Monastery Grounds  
Bajor_  
   
Kira had employed every technique she had at her disposal to try to find any traces of Garak or the missing vedeks to no avail. The other priests who had joined the search gave it their full attention and had done everything she asked of them. She had no complaints with their efforts. It was frustrating that the use of scanners was of only limited benefit. It made their job so much harder.  
   
She didn't notice it at first, but the sky grew lighter until the first red rays of dawn spilled over the compound walls. It was no use. Wherever Garak was, it couldn't be on the grounds. They had covered every square centimeter to no avail. She called them all back to her, commended them for their efforts, and recommended that they regroup back at the housing complex. Looking at the worried, demoralized faces, she knew they were thinking the same thing that she was. If the funeral occurred without Garak in attendance, any hope of lasting peace they had with Cardassia would be dashed.  
   
As soon as she was back inside, she hurried to find Odo, hoping for something better than what she had managed to find. She was surprised to find Julian there as well. As the two told her all that had happened in her absence, her bleak mood plunged even lower. She didn't blame Julian for contacting the Commander. Under the circumstances, she knew he had absolutely no choice in that, nor did she blame him for Sisko's putting two and two together and blaming her for not putting him in the loop sooner. Sisko's wrath was nothing to her fear of Cardassian involvement with and knowledge of the situation. Was it possible that Winn could have been telling the truth after all? Was she right to suspect Garak of sabotage? With Tain involved, she no longer knew what to think anymore. “Please, tell me that we at least have some good news,” she pleaded, shifting her gaze from brown eyes to blue ones.  
   
“Maybe,” Odo said cautiously. “I'm just waiting for...ah, here it comes now.” He read the text transmission scrolling across his screen. “Alith and Bannen are actually siblings, Visnen Kelleth and Visnen Roban, both from the Kendra Valley. They're much older now, so it's hard to tell from these images,” he pointed a finger at the screen to show Kira and Bashir, crowded close over his shoulders.  
   
“No,” Kira said. “I see the resemblance. They're the same people. The Kendra Valley, the site of the massacre. What does that have to do with anything? Could it be that we've been going about this all wrong from the start? Maybe this isn't about the treaty at all. Maybe it's just about revenge.” She was sorry she said it as soon as it came out of her mouth, glancing quickly at Julian and reading the fear naked in his eyes. She instinctively reached to squeeze his shoulder, trying to bolster him with an encouraging look.  
   
“Could be,” Odo said, narrowing his eyes as he continued to read. “Both of their parents went missing over a decade ago under mysterious circumstances. Shortly after that, the siblings went missing, too. The case was never closed by the Kendra Valley authorities. I'm going to contact them, and let them know what we've found. Maybe they have more information from their investigation that can shed more light on this.”  
   
“I'm going to ask Daran for a blueprint of the complex,” she said. “We went over every bit of ground outside, and I've checked all the surveillance feeds from the walls. No one entered or exited the monastery before we began our search. If they had, the sensors would have picked it up, and they would have been recorded. The security here is very tight thanks to the Kai.”  
   
Odo nodded. “Take the doctor with you,” he said distractedly, looking up the contact information for the Kendra Valley officers.  
   
“Thanks a lot,” Julian said angrily.  
   
Kira put a hand to his arm. “He's right,” she said. “This is his area of expertise, and you and I both will just be in the way if we hang around. I can definitely use your help and your eyes for this. Come on.”  
   
She completely empathized with the doctor, despite the fact that the subject of his concern was Garak. She knew from painful experience that having to wait around and let others do things for an endangered loved one was excruciating and difficult. She was impressed with how well Julian was holding up and staying focused. There was more to him than she had initially thought when they met. He had gone from annoyance to respected and dear friend. As they walked together to find Daran, she prayed silently to the Prophets that she'd be able to give him a better outcome than he had managed for Bareil with his heroic efforts. At least one of them should be allowed some happiness.  
   
When she explained to the vedek what she wanted, he seemed to understand immediately why. He hurried away from his office and returned from archives moments later with an armful of rolled blueprints. “We've been meaning to get these transferred over to data rods,” he said, “but honestly it hasn't been a large priority.” He cleared space on his desk and unrolled the first. “This is the oldest,” he said, “from when the monastery was first built. Of course, this isn't the original blueprint. Those were destroyed by the Cardassians decades ago. We've had to piece together what we could from fragments.”  
   
“So this might not be accurate,” Kira said just to be clear.  
   
“Right. The newest ones are, though. Do you want to start with them first?”  
   
“No,” Julian said before she could. “Let's look at them in order, or we might miss something.”  
   
_Odo  
Monastery Office  
Bajor_  
   
Odo liked dealing with police better than military. It seemed that they were always more on the same wavelength. He found the detective that he had been put in contact with to be a straightforward, decent man who recognized the case immediately and became quite excited at the lead. The man didn't seem to mind a bit that he had been roused from bed early. He sipped a mug of something hot as he walked back and forth across the screen, in and out of Odo's view while gathering things from a box he kept at home.  
   
“OK,” he said, resettling in his chair before his monitor. “Let's see.” He licked his thumb and flipped through several papers. “Yes, here we go. Hmm.” He glanced up at Odo. “You say those two vedeks of yours have gone missing along with a Cardassian?”  
   
“Yes,” Odo replied. “We're afraid they may have kidnapped him, actually, not the other way around.”  
   
“That's odd,” he said softly. “You see, their parents were suspected of being collaborators. Our agency was close to making an arrest on the case when they disappeared. The kids were too young to have had anything to do with it. We kept an eye on them more out of hope that we could track their parents; you know, in case they tried to contact them or anything like that.”  
   
“Yes,” Odo said, nodding. He didn't want to rush the man's flow of concentration, but he hoped that he would make his point soon. The funeral was less than two hours away.  
   
“When the kids disappeared, too, at first we thought the parents had come to get them after all, but we found some evidence to the contrary. Indications were that they might have been abducted by someone with a grudge against their parents. That list was so long, we didn't even know where to start, and the case eventually went cold. I dearly wish I could talk to those two right now.”  
   
“You and I both, Detective,” Odo said with a sigh. “Could you send me the case files? Sometimes a fresh pair of eyes can find things that those too close to a case may have missed.”  
   
“I'll be glad to,” the man said. “Do let me know when or if you find those two. We'll want the chance to question them, ourselves.”  
   
“You have my word on that,” Odo promised.  
   
_Garak  
Unknown Location  
Bajor_  
   
Garak awoke with a strange taste in his mouth and a fuzzier head than usual upon awakening. He realized that he was not lying in bed. Instead, he was seated in a hard chair, bound at the wrists and ankles. Subtle testing of the bonds showed him that he was tied well. He'd not escape soon or easily. He heard two voices whispering off to his right, and if he craned his head, he could just make out two huddled shapes in the very dim light of what looked like a hewn rock chamber. He doubted that they could see him as well as he could see them. After another moment or so of watching them, he was sure they were Alith and the man whose name he had never gotten, the one who hadn't shown a negative reaction to his arrival. He decided that allowing them to plot together unhindered wasn't in his best interest, so he cleared his throat to announce to them that he was awake.  
   
Alith drew closer; the other held back to the shadows, perhaps unaware that Garak could see him quite well. “You don't have to worry,” she told him in what she probably meant to be a soothing tone. Instead, she just sounded extremely nervous, something that wasn't remotely comforting to the tailor. Nervous people were dangerous people. “We aren't going to hurt you. All you have to do is stay calm and quiet until after the funeral. You'll then be released unharmed, and as long as you stay quiet about what happened, you'll stay that way.”  
   
“You'll forgive me if I find you less than trustworthy,” Garak said sardonically. “I have...issues...about people who drug me and tie me to chairs. I can't imagine why.”  
   
“Stop talking to him,” the man said. He sounded nervous, too.  
   
_Wonderful,_  Garak thought.  _These two aren't running this show, obviously, so who is?_  
   
“I don't want him scared,” she retorted. “You'd want somebody being kind to me in a situation like this, wouldn't you?”  
   
“He doesn't believe you,” the other snapped. “You're just making things worse. Leave him alone, and get back over here. Don't you remember what they said? He's dangerous.”  
   
“He's quite right,” he told the woman casually, letting the expression in his eyes belie his casual tone. He allowed her to see his uncertainty over the situation. “I don't believe you.”  
   
She nibbled her lower lip. “I'm sorry,” she said, her hands fluttering at her sides like captive butterflies. “You'll see, though. When it's over, you'll be free, and you'll be fine.”  
   
“You could say exactly the same if your intent was to kill me,” he countered. “Isn't that how you people see death? As a form of freedom?”  
   
The man stepped closer, frustration in his posture. “Alith!” he said. “I mean it. Get away from him.”  
   
“Of course,” Garak continued, ignoring the man and keeping his gaze locked to the woman's, “you could go a long way toward convincing me of your benign intent if you'd allow me to relieve myself. It's quite cold in here, and I seem to have been asleep for some time, if the numbness in my hands and feet is any indication.”  
   
“Right,” the man barked a laugh. “We're going to untie you so you can snap our necks and make a run for it. I don't think so.”  
   
“Then your intent is to torture me,” he said, still speaking casually and still speaking entirely to Alith. He knew from her look that he had her complete attention. She couldn't look away from him if she wanted to, and more importantly, she didn't want to.  
   
“No!” she said vehemently. “We're not like that. Bannen, what if he does have to go?”  
   
“Then he can piss himself for all I care,” the vedek spat.  
   
“Don't say that!” she snapped, still looking at Garak. “He doesn't mean that,” she said, a pleading tone in her voice. “Things...you don't know what all of this has been like.”  
   
The man closed the distance between them and struck her hard across the face. “That's enough!”  
   
She cowered away from him, lifting a hand to her cheek, but there was defiance in her look as she straightened. “It has come to this? You'd strike your own flesh and blood?”  
   
“You have a big mouth,” he said, but the tailor could hear the strain in his voice. That blow had cost him, too.  
   
“I can't help it,” she said, her voice rising. “What am I supposed to do, enjoy this? This isn't who we are! Mother and Father would never approve of our becoming kidnappers for their sakes. This man has done nothing to us, and he's here on Bajor for a noble purpose. I hate this!”  
   
“We're committed to this,” he said, sounding much less sure of himself. “We can't just back out now. This is their only chance to get off the planet, to start a better life. You were there. You heard what those men said, the same as I did, and you were just as ready to do this as I was. Don't try to deny it.”  
   
“That was before,” she said, casting a quick glance back at Garak. He did his best to look as pathetic as possible without overdoing it. “Look at him! Do you know what he does on the station? He's a tailor, just a tailor, and he's afraid, Roban, afraid of us.”  
   
Garak decided he had let that go on long enough. If either of them worked themselves up much more, they could become volatile and completely unpredictable. He cleared his throat again. “I hate to press a point in the midst of your discussion, but I truly do need to go,” he said, allowing urgency to emphasize the last three words. “If you could just untie my feet? One of you could unfasten my pants. What am I going to do with a chair strapped to my back and my hands bound to the chair?” he wheedled.  
   
He watched their silent power struggle as the two of them glared at one another. Finally the man relented. He took something from his belt at his back and passed it over to the woman. Garak caught a glimpse of it, a Bajoran phaser. He saw the man shift the setting, but at that distance, he had no idea how it was set. “Keep that on him,” he said sternly. “If he even twitches funny, shoot him.”  
   
“They want him unharmed,” she said uncertainly.  
   
“That's why I have it set to stun,” he told her. He glared at Garak. “Even on stun, it's going to hurt a lot if you make her have to shoot you.”  
   
“I have no interest in being shot,” he said. “Will you please stop talking already? My bladder is about to burst!”  
   
Still glaring, the man came closer. He knelt in front of Garak and began working at the tight knots binding his ankles. Garak watched him mildly, his intent completely hooded. He felt nothing but contempt for the idiot's actually kneeling and thereby ensuring that he wouldn't be able to react quickly to anything that the Cardassian decided to do to him. Once both of his feet were free, he launched an attack in the blink of an eye, kicking the Bajoran's chin hard enough to snap his head back. He braced his weight on his other foot and stood, whirling quickly. The chair bashed the kneeling man from the side, the legs smashing and showering both of them with wood splinters.  
   
The woman screamed, her first shot going wild, her second completing the destruction of the chair. Garak rushed her with his head down and his hands still bound behind his back, but he wasn't quite fast enough. Her third shot caught him almost squarely in the chest. As he went down, on fire with agony, he realized that the man had lied. The phaser wasn't set on stun at all. There was a good chance that he was about to die.  
   
_Julian  
Vedek Daran's Office  
Bajor_  
   
The three gathered around the blueprints each exhibited their frustration in different ways, with Julian running a hand down his face, Major Kira her fingers through her hair, and Vedek Daran tugging at his earring. They had been over each of the renderings several times apiece, feeling as though they must be missing something. Kira said, “This is ridiculous!” and stormed from the room.  
   
Angry at her outburst and that she'd just give up, Julian briefly turned away from the table to look out the oval office window. Sunlight streamed inward. The funeral would start in an hour. As he looked out over one of the gardens, he heard someone enter the office. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that the Major had simply gone to fetch Odo. He felt a bit guilty for his uncharitable thoughts and returned to the table.  
   
The three humanoids watched the changeling systematically go over each blueprint with a thorough eye. Nodding slightly to himself, he looked up from the table. “Let's go back to the room,” he said. “We have to have missed something.”  
   
They gave the vedek the courtesy of leading the way, but Julian wanted to run ahead. He had an indescribable mixture of emotions running through him, not the least of which was guilt. It was his idea to bring Garak there. In his own way, the tailor had tried to warn him. Major Kira had, too. He naively believed that Odo would be enough to protect the Cardassian from harm without factoring his regeneration cycle into the mix. He should have insisted on staying in that room, himself.  
   
When they reached the room, he resisted the impulse to lift one of the folded tunics from the bag and hold it close. He did allow himself to touch the bed, the center of the soft mattress still indented from where it had held his lover's weight. Odo paced the small confines of the room like a panther circling in its cage, working himself up in his frustration. “Where is it?” he said to himself. “Where is it? I'm missing something. Where?!”  
   
“He couldn't have gone through the tikka hole,” Major Kira said, echoing Odo's frustration.  
   
Odo stopped cold and shot an intense look in her direction. “What did you just say?” he asked.  
   
“What?” she said, blinking. “Oh, it was idiotic! I said he couldn't have gone through the tikka hole.” She pointed at the small, unevenly gnawed hole at the base of the wall.  
   
In an instant, Odo shifted to liquid form and rushed through the hole. Julian watched in fascination. He didn't often have the chance to see the changeling in action, and even though he was worried sick about Garak, it still had the ability to fill him with wonder. The three waited, looking at one another with mingled anticipation and dismay. Suddenly, they heard a rumbling sound, and the entire section of the wall with the hole at the base dragged inward, revealing a smooth, dark opening. Vedek Daran looked completely thunderstruck. “I...” he said, staring into the dark passage beyond, “I had no idea this was here.”  
   
Odo stepped from deep shadow. “I'm betting almost no one did except our kidnappers,” he said. “We're going to need some lights. The passage slopes steeply downward about two meters in, and I can't see a thing.”  
   
Daran ran from the room, and Julian and Kira crowded the opening. The passage was ingenious in its design. There were so many cracks in the old plaster of the storage room wall that the cracks that outlined the irregularly shaped hidden door were indistinguishable from the others. “I wonder how long this has been here,” Julian said, itching to hurry while knowing it would be pure folly to rush off into pitch blackness.  
   
“It's impossible to say,” Kira said. “It could have been created during the occupation, or even before. It's no wonder it didn't show up on any of the blueprints. If it goes down instead of just inward, there could be an entire subterranean level that wouldn't have shown up on the maps. It may have been left out on purpose, in case the vedeks or the Kai needed an escape route.”  
   
Odo ran his hands along the inside of the wall door, bending and making a small, satisfied exclamation. “Found you,” he said. As he straightened, he showed them a tiny device in the palm of his hand. “I was wondering how they timed the abduction to my regeneration cycle. We were being watched through the 'tikka hole' with this.”  
   
“Let me see that,” Kira said, holding out her hand. She turned it over and held it so that Julian could see it, too. “This isn't Bajoran tech,” she said.  
   
“No,” Julian agreed with a sinking feeling. “It looks very Cardassian. May I?” Nodding, she tipped her palm and dropped the tiny device into his. He held it up to the dim artificial light of the storeroom and squinted at it. It was just too dim to make out much detail. “We should be careful,” he said. “It's possible we're being watched through this right now.”  
   
“There's a cheerful thought,” Odo grunted.  
   
Vedek Daran returned out of breath with an armful of palm lights. “Sorry it took so long,” he panted. “We keep these all the way on the other side of the complex.”  
   
“That's OK,” Kira said, taking one and tossing it to Julian, another to Odo, and keeping one for herself. Drawing her phaser, she said, “I'm taking point. Odo, I want you at my back. Julian, you bring up the rear with Daran.”  
   
It was on the tip of his tongue to protest this arrangement. He wanted to go first, but she shot him a complex look, and he suddenly understood. She didn't fully trust Daran, and she wanted him to watch the vedek. It made sense. He was too emotionally close to all of this to take the lead. He might make an emotional mistake. Focusing instead on watching another gave him enough to do that he wouldn't be a liability to the rest of them. Yet again he found his respect for the former resistance fighter increase. She knew what she was doing, and she did it well.  
   
Drawing his phaser and setting it to heavy stun, he indicated that Daran should go ahead of him. The Bajoran did so willingly, the only one of them unarmed, at least as far as Julian could tell. He wanted to trust the man who had been so helpful to them since this whole mess started. He truly did. Perhaps he had spent enough time around Garak to realize that just because one wanted to trust someone, it wasn't a good enough reason. He watched the man closely from the back, in particular his hands. The group of four descended a steep slope with a low ceiling cut directly into bedrock. Julian wondered how far down it went and dreaded what they might find at the bottom.  
   
_Garak  
Unknown Location  
Bajor_  
   
Try as he might, Garak could barely move. He groaned as he twisted himself and tried to flinch away from Alith when she approached him. Through swimming vision, he saw her fear contorted face.  _This is it,_  he thought bitterly, angry at the idea of being taken out by such idiots. Hadn't Enabran always said untrained enemies could be the most dangerous of all because they were so unpredictable? He knew that had he been in this same situation just ten years before, he would've been fast enough to take out the woman, too. His age had betrayed him.  
   
“I don't understand,” she said, kneeling beside him and touching his chest.  
   
He cried out sharply in agony. He couldn't help it. There were few things in the known universe more painful than a direct phaser blast that somehow didn't quite manage to kill.  
   
She jerked her hand back. “I'm sorry!” she said. “I...why would he lie to me?” She lifted the weapon to look at it. “I've never handled one of these before. There's no way it was set to stun! He wanted me to kill you, but why?”  
   
He shook his head, that small bit of movement costing him. “Don't...know,” he gasped. If he rolled his eyes upward, he could barely see the prone form of the male vedek on the floor. He wasn't moving. He couldn't see if he was still breathing or not. “Help me,” he said, looking back at her.  
   
She nodded and tucked the weapon into her belt at her back. “I will,” she said. “I...it's going to hurt.”  
   
He nodded, too. He knew that. She knelt behind him and worked at the knots binding his hands. When the pressure released, he felt very slight relief. He directed his focus inward, calming his erratic breathing, slowing his racing heart. He had never been as good at this as his superiors wanted him to be, one reason for the misguided implantation of the wire, but now he knew his life depended on it. If he couldn't bring his body under control before he sank fully into shock, he would be dead before she managed to drag him ten meters.  
   
She first tried to lift him under his arms. “Nnnoooo!” he keened, thrashing involuntarily. She immediately released him and jumped back. Panting heavily, he gasped, “Feet.”  
   
He could feel her hands trembling when they cupped under his heels. She had a strong grip for her size, though, and as she began to drag him over the floor, he could tell that she was capable. He fought to hang onto consciousness, fearing that if he slipped into darkness, it would be the last thing he ever did. His pajama top rode up and bunched under his shoulder blades. Rough stone scraped his scales the wrong way. He could feel some of them tearing and coming loose. It was like the difference between being bitten by insects and torn apart by hunting hounds, the searing agony of his chest and torso preventing him from registering the other pain as anything more than pressure and odd discomfort.  
   
She dragged him from the small chamber, and he could feel the ground beginning to slope upward. Soon, she was out of breath. He felt her set his heels down. “I'm sorry,” she panted. “Feel like I'm going to pass out.”  
   
“Rest...but not long,” he told her, his voice pain constricted and weak.  
   
To her credit, she did as he asked. He knew he was heavy. Dragging dead weight was never easy. Dragging dead weight up a slope must have been worse. She didn't waste her breath on talking to him, but she did periodically check to make sure he was still breathing with each brief rest period. He had no idea where they were or how far away they were from help, but as they made steady progress upward, he decided that maybe he would survive this after all. Giving up just wasn't in his nature.  
   
_Julian  
Unknown Passage  
Bajor_  
   
The air grew colder and wetter. The doctor was surprised at how far down the passage seemed to delve with no sign of hitting bottom. He heard Kira's voice ahead, but thanks to the low ceiling he couldn't see her as well as he would've liked. “I've got something,” she said back to them, and then her voice grew sharper. “Stop right there! Put your hands where I can see them. Hands where I can see them now!”  
   
“Don't shoot!” came a voice he recognized.  _Alith!_ he thought. “I've got a phaser in my belt at my back. I'm not reaching for it. He needs help! He was shot, and please, my brother is back there. I don't know if he's alive or not.”  
   
“Doctor,” Odo said, turning, “get up here.”  
   
He shoved past the vedek and the Constable, his heart racing. As soon as he saw Garak prone in the passage and how pale he was, he felt himself go cold. “Garak!” He flung himself to his knees and carefully unbuttoned the bunched pajama top. The damage was extensive. Garak's eyes rolled, eventually focusing. He was too weak to say a word, but the look of relief in his eyes almost brought Julian to tears.  
   
Julian tried to remotely activate the transporter of the Mekong. Nothing happened. “Damn! The natural radiation levels must be preventing me from making contact. We've got to get up to the surface. He's dying!”  
   
Kira emerged from darkness with Alith, the two carrying an unconscious Bajoran between them. “He is, too,” Kira said grimly of the battered man.  
   
Odo flowed into the form of a stretcher beneath Garak. “You and the vedek can carry him this way,” he told Julian. Daran nodded and grabbed one end. On Julian's signal they lifted as smoothly as they could. Garak made a sound the likes of which the doctor had never heard from him before. It wrung his heart knowing he was in that much pain.  
   
As soon as they emerged from the passage, he set his end of the Odo stretcher down and triggered his comm badge. “Doctor Bashir to the Mekong. Six to beam up, directly to the infirmary. Energize.”  
   
The storeroom disappeared, and the small sick bay of the runabout came into view around them. Now in his element, Julian barked orders to every able bodied person he had available to him, getting both Garak and the fallen vedek onto biobeds and working to get them stabilized. He didn't care about the funeral anymore. All he wanted was to make sure he wasn't going to lose either man. He injected Garak with a heavy dosage of analgesic, monitoring to make certain he didn't have a bad reaction.  
   
Alith stood huddled off to the side under the watchful eye of Odo. She watched the progress with both men with wide eyed worry. As angry as he was with her, Julian found himself feeling a bit sorry for her, too. She looked like nothing more than a scared kid in way over her head.  
   
Julian adjusted the settings on the biobed to Garak's physiological specifications. The Cardassian reached up and grasped his wrist in a stronger grip than he would have thought possible for his condition. “The funeral,” he rasped. Kira glanced over at both of them, startled.  
   
“Absolutely not,” Julian said. “You took a direct phaser blast to the chest, set to kill. It's only by some miracle I can't even explain that you're not dead.”  
   
“Listen to me,” Garak hissed. “If I'm not there, my injuries are the least of your worries.” He glanced over at Kira as though seeking her support.  
   
“Garak,” she said, approaching the bed, “you have to listen to Julian.”  
   
Anger simmered in the blue gaze. “Vedek Bareil did more in worse shape. Get me mobile. I know you can, and bring me my clothes.”  
   
He was about to protest again when Odo cut in unexpectedly. “He's right,” he said. “There's more at stake here than just him. If he wants to do this and believes that he can, you need to let him.”  
   
“I agree,” Vedek Daran spoke up. “I'd never willingly risk a man's life to no real end, but he's expected there. If he doesn't show, it could have wide ramifications for the way our people view the treaty and the way the Cardassians view us. We have a decent medical ward in the monastery. We can handle Vedek Bannen now that he's stabilized, and we can detain Vedek Alith.”  
   
“The last time I allowed a patient to dictate his treatment, I lost him,” Julian said. He looked hard at Garak, pleading with his gaze,  _Don't make me do this._  
   
Garak's expression was implacable. “This isn't last time,” he said evenly, his voice starting to slur from the pain medication. “As a citizen of the Cardassian Union, I demand that you release me to my own recognizance until such time as I say otherwise. You have no right to treat me against my will.”  
   
_Kira  
Monastery of the Kai  
Bajor_  
   
The four of them, she, Odo, Julian, and Garak, beamed directly into the funeral crowd where they had seats reserved with just minutes to spare. It caused quite the stir, but the assembled crowd quickly settled again at a gesture from the Kai. With Odo to her left, Garak to her right, and Julian to Garak's right, she furtively glanced about, her heart swelling with pride and love as she saw just how many people were in attendance. Although she knew it to be a fanciful thought, it seemed as though half of Bajor had turned out to pay their final respects to the beloved vedek. His funeral arch was a thing of beauty, lovingly crafted by his brothers and sisters of his order. The sky, clear that morning, was now overcast and threatening rain, but it was the warm season. She wasn't worried.  
   
She couldn't stop glancing at Garak from the corners of her eyes, his posture stiff, his bearing regal. If one didn't look directly into his eyes and see how unnaturally wide his pupils were, one would never guess that he was medicated to the hilt and holding onto himself by a thread. She could hardly believe that he had fought so hard to be there, and what troubled her about it the most was that she couldn't think of a single selfish reason for it that made any kind of sense at all.  _Maybe Antos was right to hope,_  she thought with a small shiver. It wasn't comfortable having to respect a man she knew at gut level she couldn't trust. Hadn't Tekeny Ghemor said as much?  _What if he was wrong?_  
   
She frowned slightly and looked straight ahead. The gongs sounded, their sonorous voices so deep and resonant that she felt her body vibrating from them. Garak made a very small, constricted noise, and she glanced at him in concern. His fists were balled tightly over his thighs. Hesitantly, she slipped a hand over the fist closest to her and leaned in to whisper, “Squeeze my hand instead. It helps.”  
   
She felt the large hand turning against her palm, the texture as rough as she recalled from other, unwelcome touches from other Cardassians long ago. She thrust those thoughts away and winced slightly as his fingers forced hers together painfully. He quickly shifted his hold, and she relaxed again, as much as she could under the circumstances. She smiled slightly when she saw Julian take his other hand. On impulse, she reached for Odo. It felt right, the four of them from the station joined like this and sharing this moment.  
   
Kai Winn addressed the crowd, the system set up masterfully so that it sounded as though she spoke to each of them personally. As much as Kira despised the woman, she appreciated that she at least sounded sincere. The things she said of Antos were all true. Kira felt her tears begin to flow freely, all the grief she had held bottled inside for two days coming out and finally having its way with her. She was unashamed as she wept for the man she had loved, still loved. Sorrow flowed through her powerfully, cleansing her and completing the cycle of love and loss that almost every sentient being experienced at some point or another in life.  
   
She joined her voice with the others in the public death chant. After a few rounds of it, she heard Odo's voice added to hers. She squeezed his hand with gratitude, and then she heard Julian. Garak didn't join, a fact for which she was strangely grateful, but his hold tightened on her hand and she knew on an instinctive level that it was for her pain and not for his. That was too much to process in the moment, something she set aside and would examine at a time when she could figure out how to handle it and where to put it. The road she started down thanks to Amin Marritza and had continued on with Tekeny Ghemor took yet another unexpected turn. She briefly wondered where it would end.  
   
A little over halfway through the ceremony, the rain began to fall. It plastered hair and clothing, mingled with the tears of the crowd, and washed everything in its wake clean and fresh. The damp scent rising from the rich soil beneath their feet renewed her spirit. Music swelled at the end of the ceremony, not somber and sorrowful, but rousing and inspiring. She felt so full of love and gratitude for the wonderful man who had all too briefly touched her life that she brimmed to overflow. Sunlight mingled with rain through a break in the clouds, and the Bajoran officer smiled through her tears.  
   
Back on the Mekong a few hours later, Odo and Julian piloted the runabout toward Deep Space Nine. Kira sat beside Garak's biobed, the Cardassian deep in the clutches of a drugged sleep. He had collapsed as soon as they beamed away from the feast that followed the funeral. Only then had it hit her exactly how much he had risked to be there and that were he even slightly less tough, he wouldn't have survived the experience.  
   
Asleep, he was as much cypher to her as when he was awake. She wondered how it was that someone as open and straightforward as Julian had come to love him with his sly mannerisms, cutting wit, and secretive agendas. He embodied so much of what she loathed about Cardassians, and yet, she couldn't discount his actions of the day as a fluke or a self-serving game. There was nothing self-serving about almost dying just to attend a funeral.  _How can I like you when I can't trust you?_  she wondered, reaching to adjust a wrinkle in his blanket. She decided that she didn't have to decide that right in that moment. It was enough and more than she had ever expected of herself that she could even entertain the thought.  
   
_Julian  
The Infirmary  
Deep Space Nine_  
   
It had been a tense three days since they had returned from Bajor, Garak's condition fluctuating dangerously several times before finally truly stabilizing. He wasn't sure that the tailor didn't have permanent nerve damage. It was too soon to tell. The doctor felt wrung out and stretched thin, barely able to sleep, yet knowing that if he didn't, he couldn't effectively treat his lover. It was different when the person on the bed was someone that he cared about deeply. Had there been anyone else aboard the station that he felt he could trust with the complicated treatments, he would have likely allowed it.  
   
The small private room incongruously filled with flowers, the first bouquet from Major Kira. When she had brought it for the brief visit he allowed, she had shrugged uncomfortably and set the vase on the bedside table almost as though she thought it would bite her. “The room just looks so empty,” she had said by way of explanation. Dax had followed suit next, then one of Garak's Bajoran customers and his family, even Rom. Julian couldn't wait until Garak was properly awake to see them. He hoped that he was there for the reaction.  
   
Late that night, just as he was about to head back to his quarters to snatch a bit of sleep, the comm chimed. When he answered it, he was startled all over again by the sight of Enabran Tain, smiling benevolently and drinking something from fluted stemware. “Hello, Doctor,” the agent said. “I wanted to congratulate you on finding what you misplaced and returning it to its proper location. I trust you understand now why I like to keep it there?”  
   
“Yes,” he said, wondering what subtext there might be to the remark. Did Tain actually care for Garak, or was it just that he wanted to be the one in control of whether he lived or died? He believed it was something he might never know.  
   
“I'm glad to hear that,” he said. “It's a very healthy attitude. In light of our new-found sense of cooperation, I'd like to ask you a personal favor, Doctor Bashir, a small thing, really.”  
   
“What is it?” he asked cautiously.  
   
Tain's smile deepened. “Buy Garak an Edosian orchid, and tell him it's from me.”  
   
He considered, his eyes narrowed. It couldn't be as straightforward as it sounded. It likely wasn't even a benign gesture. However, Enabran Tain wasn't the sort of man one lightly refused. Worried that he was being drawn into a hurtful game, he reluctantly agreed. “Very well. May I ask why?” he ventured.  
   
Tain chuckled. “Old time's sake,” he said and abruptly cut the transmission. The doctor breathed a small sigh of relief and placed the order for the orchid. He figured that Tain had his way of knowing if he didn't and might also have his way of making him pay for breaking the agreement.  
   
_Garak  
The Infirmary_  
   
His life had reduced to feverish dreams and hallucinations for days, with the tailor never knowing if what he was experiencing was real and in the present moment, a scene from his past haunting the present, or a product of his own vivid imagination. He found himself lying in a hospital bed and staring at a very familiar sight, an Edosian orchid of sublime beauty and perfection, less than two feet away. “Father?” he murmured.  
   
A pair of pale blue eyes in an indistinct face hovered closer and vied for his focus. “No,” whoever it was said. “It's me, Odo.”  
   
He felt the last traces of confusion drop away in gossamer strands, releasing his mind. “Where did that flower come from?” he asked tightly, now realizing he was surrounded by all sorts of flowers on all sides. What could it possibly mean?  
   
Odo stood and reached for its tag. “Enabran Tain,” he said, sounding surprised.  
   
Garak's eyes widened. “Get it out of here, Odo,” he said. “Get it out of here right now and incinerate it. Make sure no one smells it. Has anyone smelled it?” he asked, panic rising in his breast.  
   
“I don't think so. Calm down, Garak. I'm doing as you asked,” the changeling assured him and disappeared through the doorway.  
   
When he returned, Garak asked, “Where is Julian?”  
   
“He went to bed about an hour ago,” Odo replied. “I told him I'd watch over you for a while. What has you so worked up?”  
   
The Cardassian shook his head. “Make sure he's all right,” he insisted.  
   
Frowning, Odo did so, the computer informing them that Julian was asleep in his quarters, his vital signs normal. Pulling his chair closer to the bedside, Odo regarded Garak evenly. “You have no intention of telling me what that was about, do you?” he asked.  
   
Garak shook his head, already bone weary just from that bit of excitement. “Tell me what I've missed,” he said, closing his eyes. His head felt as though it weighed at least ten kilos more than it should, and periodic jolts of pain shot through his chest as though his nerves were misfiring.  
   
“I've been instructed not to tire you,” Odo replied, “but if you're anything like I am, wondering will just tire you more. Your abductors were the children of collaborators. The Bajoran authorities haven't been able to find who arranged for them to take you, but their parents were found hiding in a cave formation less than twenty kilometers from the Monastery of the Kai.” He frowned, a note of distaste creeping into his voice. “Kai Winn claimed credit for their very public arrest. The news even overshadowed coverage of Vedek Bareil's funeral.” Garak cracked one eye open, and the two exchanged knowing looks. “There was some scant evidence of Cardassian involvement, a spying device in that tikka hole in our quarters. I...kept that to myself,” Odo confessed, sounding uncomfortable.  
   
“Wise of you, Constable,” Garak murmured. He stayed quiet after that for a long time, almost drifting back to sleep but fighting it for just a bit longer. “Odo,” he said, “how long? How long do you think this treaty will last?”  
   
“I'm not known for my optimism, Garak,” he answered.  
   
Garak snorted softly and winced. Laughing hurt. “I just wonder...if what I did was for nothing in the long run.”  
   
“No,” the changeling said with such conviction it surprised the tailor.  
   
“No?” he rasped, his voice a ghost of what it should have been.  
   
He felt Odo's hand covering his through his thick blanket. “Garak,” he said earnestly, “kindness is never wasted.” Before the Cardassian could think of an appropriate retort, Odo stood and began to circle the room, stopping at each bouquet and reading aloud from the cards. “'Thank you, and get well soon. Nerys.' 'I know you'll make a speedy recovery. Dax.' 'Sharee wants to know when she can show off her new dress for you. Konil.' 'I miss our lunches. Rom.' 'I love you more than words can say. Julian...'”  
   
At some point during the litany he drifted to sleep. He hard no place for the emotions rising in him at each new revelation. Some of them he couldn't even name. What he did know, possibly for the first time since his exile, was that he was no longer as alone as he thought himself to be. He slept easier than he had in years.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was first posted on Dec. 20, 2009. This time I decided to do something a little different. It always bugged me to death that there was no real follow through to "Life Support," and it was a recurring complaint I had with DS9, that many of their recurring character deaths had no aftermath and no apparent consequences. This story doesn't follow the plot of any other episode, and it takes place between "Life Support" and "Heart of Stone," my version of an episode that never was but that I think should have been. I also branch away from just Julian's and Garak's points of view, covering some of Kira's and Odo's thoughts and reactions, as well. Overall, I'm pleased with the way it turned out, and I hope you enjoy it, too.


End file.
